


Ours to Protect

by PureBatWings, Shiroganeaesc



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, BAMF Newt Scamander, Gellert and Albus not a couple, M/M, MACUSA directors aren't much better, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, Soulmates, Threesome - M/M/M, Topping from the Bottom, a wee bit cracky?, dark lords are bullies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PureBatWings/pseuds/PureBatWings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiroganeaesc/pseuds/Shiroganeaesc
Summary: When Gellert Grindelwald ends up getting a soulmate mark that matches Percival Graves and Newt Scamander, what's a dark lord to do? How does a mild mannered magizoologist keep two powerful wizards in line?Usual legal disclaimers apply. Not our characters, not for money, no copyright infringement implied.





	1. Chapter 1

“Newt!” Albus Dumbledore, transfiguration professor at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry called out to one of his favourite students, finally returned after many long years of travel.

“Professor Dumbledore!” Newt returned happily, as he nervously walked into the Great Hall, case tightly grasped in his hand.

“So good to see you my boy, and please, it’s Albus.” Albus waved the newest Care of Magical Creatures Professor over to where the rest of the professors gathered. All the teachers arrived a few days early to meet and do final planning for the school year. The two newest professors to join the staff had arrived today.

The other aforementioned professor was Percival Graves, previous Director of Magical Security of MACUSA in America. He had arrived even earlier than the Hufflepuff alumnus, and was currently speaking with Headmaster Dippet about the differences between wand handling in England and the colonies.

“I’m wondering as well, Headmaster, whether there will be a difference between the wand-work of the children trained as toddlers versus the no-maj, sorry, Muggleborn, students who are relatively new to this world of magic.”

Dippet nodded his head. “An interesting observation. You’ll have to discern the capabilities of your students and I would be interested to see what your conclusions are. Just remember these are children, not raw recruit aurors.”

“Of course sir, but they need to know how to defend themselves and others.” Graves excused himself and went to partake of the Ogden’s Firewhiskey. It was almost as good as America's Roanoke Whiskey, he decided.

Standing at the sideboard where the bottles were placed, he had a full view of the room. As ex-military man and former Auror, his eyes automatically scanned the room, immediately noticing the newcomer dressed in a… blue coat? His eyes widened, it must be. Newton Scamander.

He had to go over to him, he needed to, the pull practically felt physical, like he was an object with an accio spell cast on it, it was so tangible. His soul called for the other wizard, there was no doubting it now, they were, and always had been, soulmates. He had been correct in looking for Newt as soon as he could assure MACUSA’s security was left in capable hands.

Newt could feel eyes on him, the stare, wherever it was coming from. was so intense it nearly made him drop the glass of water that prof- that Albus had handed to him, eyes twinkling, before merrily going off to talk with Professor Slughorn, the potions professor. Newt looked around, finally seeing the wizard that had been staring at him so intently, scrutinizing him like a swooping evil contemplating fresh brains.

Newt, as Graves remembered he preferred to be called, must have felt his eyes on him as he glanced around until their eyes met. He smiled kindly, also recalling that if there was a scale from nervous to confident Newt probably would have broken it, and not shooting off of the confident side. The only time the man seemed at ease in his own skin was when he was interacting with one of his creatures, or trying to educate the ignorant about the wondrous variety of magical beasties.

What was the Director of Magical Security doing here? Wait. No, he was not the Director of Magical Security anymore, he had announced his impending retirement a while ago, saying he would leave the job for someone else to wrangle as soon as he could assure himself that everything was under control. This had apparently taken many more years than he had expected, but the Prophet mentioned last week, that Graves had resigned, signifying well-being in the colonies.

And now it seemed that he was going to be teaching at Hogwarts, it seemed he was in the same room as him, and it seemed like he was walking right towards where Newt himself happened to be standing…. And if the way his soul happened to be pulling towards the older wizard, it also seemed like they were soul mates.

Newt wavered on his feet and toppled back into blackness, his lanky form’s fall broken by the ex-Auror’s quick reflexes. They touched, and their soul marks burned in sympathy.

Somewhere, deep in MACUSA’s jail, Grindelwald also felt a burn on his mark- one created when he polyjuiced into that damned Percival Graves- as his partner’s mark was partially linked, the other part would be linked to him, as soon as he got out of this pestilent cell.

 

GRINDELWALD ESCAPES!! was the blaringly large font title on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. The headline shimmered ominously. Each professor had a copy delivered to where they sat at the Head Table, and each immediately turned to the previous Head of Security to see his reaction as soon as they read it.

He stared at his own copy with an uncharacteristically gobsmacked face before he promptly composed himself and reacted. He stood quickly,chair screeching slightly from being pushed back so quickly from the table and he ran. He knew he had to get to Newt, right now. He dodged suits of armor and statues of long dead wizards as he ran, cursing the fact he couldn’t apparate inside the wards. But that meant Grindelwald couldn’t either.

Graves had no doubt that Grindelwald was here. His escape would have been silent in order not to raise an alarm. By the time Prophet reported the newsflash, he would have been long gone, which means he had to run. He burst through the hallways, steadily heading towards Newt’s room where he had been placed last night after fainting right as their soul marks connected and resonated in a burst of magic.

His mark-- suddenly he was conscious of it, it burned... It wasn’t the burn of a connection he had had last night, it was the burn of someone dangerously close to his partner. Only one other person had a mark sympathetic with his Newt. It was a little known effect of Polyjuice that if someone were using the potion regularly, the soulmate effect would also affect the imposter, linking him to his mark’s mate. In imitating Graves, he had now a claim on Newt. Graves started up running again, putting on a new burst of speed, but he knew it was too late.

The door was still open, and he ran inside, disregarding caution, focused solely on getting to Newt as fast as possible before something could hap- Grindelwald smiled at him as he sat on Newt’s bed, with Newt’s still unconscious form lying supine beside him. Newt's head rested on the Dark Wizard's lap. The scene might have been a sweet tableau to an onlooker if Grindelwald hadn't had a wand pointed at Newt's neck, tracing a symbol on his pale neck.

Graves held his wand aloft, steadily keeping it pointed at the dark wizard, but he had no doubt that if Grindelwald wanted to, he could kill Newt, hurt him irreversibly, do any number of horrible things to him in an instant if it looked like Graves was about to curse him.

Grindelwald inclined his head like a host extending his hospitality. All that was lacking was a bottle of red wine and matching goblets.

“Graves. I must say, your wards gave me quite the challenge. I’m wondering if you were aware that we Germans excel at wardmaking--- and breaking?”

“Leave him alone, you can duel me.”

“Oh? I can? Seems a pity to lacerate you when your mate and mine would be upset with us both. I have a better proposition that leaves us with all our body parts intact and fully functional….” he purred.

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

 "You do understand that Newt is also my mate? And that he will need to... accomodate both of us?" he asked mockingly. “Surely you understand his wellbeing rests on a sensitive nature. I could easily torture you into insanity before ridding you from this planet, but that wouldn’t be good for Newt, so for now, you stay sane and alive. I presume you think something rather similar about your situation with me.”

“He is mine to protect," asserted Graves, resting a hand on Newt’s leg, his wand still pointed at the crafty, power hungry wizard.

“Ours to protect. Especially from each other, I think. Given his propensity to get into trouble, Newt needs two powerful wizards to keep him safe.”

“So what is your proposition,” Graves asked, lowering his wand slightly, realizing he couldn’t just blast the dark wizard into oblivion.

“We both get Newt. This is non-negotiable for both of us.” The two dominant men looked at each other, and warily pulled back from threatening to watchful stances. Grindelwald pocketed his wand, but continued to trace Newt's long pale neck with his fingertips, just to piss off the other man.

“You do anything to hurt him and I’ll take you down with me. Don’t forget, I survived an obscurus,” said Graves, stalking over to stand by the bed.

“Don’t forget your obscurus was also mine, for a time. What a pity I didn’t see him for more than a no-maj distraction, pretty but hardly experienced. Pity he got away from both of us and flew away. Bye bye, black smoke.”

Newt started coming around, drawing both men’s attention. Graves reached over to cup his freckled cheek and Grindelwald smacked his hand away angrily.

“Mein!” he snarled.

Newt gulped, coming awake and taking note of two wizards facing off over his still shaky, nerveless body. “Graves? Grindelwald?”

“Newt darling!”

“Liebling!”

The magizoologist looked even more confused and frightened at what he had woken to-- yet a pair of male erumpents trying to impress the same female in estrus was far more explosive than this and he knew how to deal with that. If he thought of them as two alpha males posturing, he was completely sure of what he had to do.

“Basilisk’s balls, gentlemen, I’m not a quidditch cup to fight over. Get out of my room and leave me alone! Neither of you gets to lay a fingernail on me until I say so,” yelled Newt, taking control of the situation.

Automatically, at the implacable note of command in his usually mild voice, they found themselves magically pushed away from the bed. They left the room, only realizing their mistake once they heard the door click locked behind them, and felt three wards get thrown up in quick succession, one of them in an African tongue which neither of them could identify, much less dissect its gramma, to disperse the spell swiftly.

Grindelwald turned around to start banging on the door. “You will let me in right now!! I am the darkest lord of all time!”

“Oh yeah! You’re really convincing me, one word for you-- Mordred,” Newt yelled back, letting his tone became slightly sardonic, his offensive instinct taking over at the best possible time.

Grindelwald sputtered, Mordred was at least his equal, that was true.

“Newt sweety, why can’t you just open th-” Graves coaxed.

“Not a chance,” was the flat reply. “Bugger off. Go bugger each other, for all I care.” The pair looked at each other and shuddered a bit.

Graves resorted to Grindelwald’s tactic, yelling “I am the director of magical security for the entirety of magical America, you will…”

“You quit! Professor, I read the papers,” Newt called back, reminding him of his current status before looking around his room and accio’ing his dresser to place in front of the door, blockading the way just that much more. However, he figured if the wizards hadn’t blown his door in yet, they probably wouldn't resort to that. Just to be sure, though, he slept with his wand in his hand that night, his wards alerting him at midnight that while neither wizard outside his door had abandoned the battlefield, neither had they resorted to hexing one another.


	2. Comparisons are vile things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The competition over Newt's favors heats up....

At 7 a.m. Saturday morning Newt ventured to do a transparency charm on his room’s door.

What he beheld was a sight for the ages. Two middle aged wizards who should have known better were curled in awkward positions leaning up against the stone wall, their wands hanging limply in sleep relaxed hands, pointed at one another. Graves had a bit of drool coming out of his mouth and Grindelwald was snoring, probably from mold allergies. The castle was always a challenge for the house elves to keep extra clean.

Newt shook his head, before walking forward. Hesitantly he touched Graves’ forehead, feeling the temperature. At least the silly wizards had placed warming charms on themselves, lest their body temperatures drop below what human health demanded. While they were warm-blooded species, hypothermia was still a danger. There were some, of course, who suspected that these two men might have ice water in their veins.

Newt peered at Graves' eyes just in time to see them flick open, going from light sleep to instantly awake at the touch. He stumbled back, surprised that Graves had awoken so quickly. Grindelwald spoke, still in his spot on the floor, back to the wall, “There you are, my precious.” Newt’s head whipped around to look at the other wizard, who had also woken at Newt’s nearness. Both were used to constant vigilance, and were finely tuned to not be taken unaware when anyone was near them.

“You are both my….?” Newt trailed off, uncertain.

“Soulmates, yes.” Graves answered, instinctively knowing what the question would be. “Perhaps we should have broken it to you more gently?” Grindelwald started to stand from his cramped position with a wince, and Graves noticing this, quickly followed suit, his knees popping.

Newt instinctively took a few steps back, recognizing the need to keep his distance. “I- I used to have one soulmark.” Newt informed them quietly, “But, before I traveled to New York some months ago, I-uh, I somehow acquired another one..?” Originally, he’d only had the one, a P with a G intertwined together, marking his soulmate's initials.

A short time before the events of the New York fiasco however, another one appeared in his skin, two more letters, both Gs in heavy gothic font, emerged. He now recognized the two soulmarks represented Percival Graves and Gellert Grindelwald.

“Polyjuice has the interesting- and previously unknown- property of transferring a soulmark as well. As I did not have my own, I kept it upon returning to my true form,” Grindelwald explained patiently. It was good marketing as a Dark Wizard to appear to know more than the average mage.

“Oh.” was all Newt was able to say, not quite able to process what having two soulmates meant. Not to mention the reality of him meeting them both- something he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for. Also, there was the fact that even though the two were the same species, they couldn’t have been more different! But the two were predators, Newt mused, and focused upon the same prey…

Two predators, one mate for each. How would this work, he wondered. He would compare it to the North American red squirrel. The female emitted a scent, leading potential mates on a chase, and mated with an average of six to fourteen males a day. He wasn’t sure he had that sort of stamina for such a chase, much less the climactic finish. Newt thought about unobtrusively sniffing himself, just to make sure he wasn’t giving off any such pheromones, but figured he shouldn’t with the two wizards staring at him keenly, as they would certainly notice his nose headed to his armpit.

Suddenly, he had a realization, if they were the predators, that meant, *gulp*, that he was the prey. This was definitely not a safe situation. He started to shake lightly, and both the wizards curiously glanced at each other, neither had even done anything, so why was their soulmate positively shaking in fear? It was most assuredly _not_ a good thing to be the prey, Newt thought feverishly.

“You’re scaring him!” accused Grindelwald, menacingly.

“No, you’re scaring him!” retorted Graves, looking like he was about to interrogate a prisoner.

“You- stop, you’re both unnerving me,” Newt said quietly, unsure about the two powerful wizards squaring up to each other, trying to out-loom the other. The two stopped eyeing each other like wild bulls surrounded by red flags and looked at him instead.

Each man’s features instantaneously softened, trying to come across as more kind and gentler than the other. It wasn’t a look either of them could carry off effortlessly. It was forced, slightly unnatural, but both were superb actors, worthy of winning awards, and Newt had to give them points for trying. They did look a bit less threatening… regardless of whether or not they actually were.

Like an animal being soothed after a fright, he calmed, the quaking lessened gradually. He knew it was probably camouflage on both their parts, but he appreciated the obvious hostility being tamped down at his request.

“Can we- that is, do you both, I mean, would- Why don’t we adjourn to my rooms and discuss this matter in a civilised fashion over some tea?” Newt stuttered a bit before falling back on proposing the universal panacea for all ills throughout the British Isles. His parents had managed to at least pound that one sentence into his head for him to automatically fall back onto, he could practically say that line in his sleep.

“Coffee, please,” muttered Graves. He was not a morning person.

“Ja, Coffee,” Grindelwald grudgingly agreed with his rival, “Tea is a weak man’s beverage.”

They looked at each other sourly, hating that they agreed on anything other than needing to appeal to Newt.

Nervously Newt waved them over the threshold, dropping the wards a second too late so each received a small electric shock as they passed through. A shock? They thought incredulously, before remembering who had set the wards up. They should have known any consequence for ignoring the wards would have been minimal. Likely, they could have completely ignored the wards, blasted through and gotten to Newt earlier, rather than sleeping outside in the hallway.

But that would have required them working together as a team, not rivals. Newt smiled shyly, seemingly in apology for the shock. And that's all it took for them to change their minds, how could they have invaded this sweet man’s privacy?

Oh. Never mind, that's exactly what each intended to do, to take every spare moment of Newt’s time for themselves. But such a brute invasion would have probably made Newt frightened, so in hindsight, it was better that they had thought they couldn’t pass the wards without suffering irreparable harm. They knew better for next time though, and both were experienced in espionage from fighting on different sides in the Great War.

Feeling daring, Newt seated himself between the German and American and attempted to pass a plate of biscuits. The two wizards, however, were far more interested in the man between them than the plate of biscuits he was holding.

Graves possessively slung an arm over Newt’s shoulders, drawing him in as close as he could without completely pulling the younger man onto his lap, though he wanted very much to do so. Grindelwald glared at this gesture, putting his hand upon Newt’s inner thigh, in a very risque move.

Newt sighed, he guessed the way to a man’s heart wasn’t through his stomach, after all. He put the platter back down on the small table in front of the couch. He and his impromptu guests seemed to be engaged in some form of tug-a-war; he was the rope with two teams pulling from either sides, wanting more, and more, and more. He didn’t know if he would unravel under the stress or whether he could inflict some rope burns to keep the rivals on their toes.

But he was certainly enjoying the strong hands intent on keeping as much of him to themselves as they could. This was a dangerous, but enjoyable form of manhandling.

“Well, I for one need to keep up my strength, if you gentlemen don’t mind,” said Newt primly as he bit down on a biscuit. He made sure to lick his lips free of crumbs and noted with satisfaction that the hand on his leg tightened a fraction and that the arm around his shoulders held him more closely. These were his soulmates, and he realized that having them around increased his confidence greatly. Who wouldn’t be flattered by being pursued by two of the most powerful wizards of modern era?

Though he did have some slight doubts about how having the most evil wizard of the age was squeezing his thigh and looking at him like he was about to do… unspeakable things. Not all of them forbidden, surely, but certainly unusual. However, this was his soulmate, and Newt supposed his previous acts shouldn’t be held against him, everything was justified in Newt’s little world, they were soulmates, therefore whatever he had done to Newts he could do no wrong.

And maybe he could influence the older man to… relax a little with his plans for world domination and having pureblood supremacists killing off Muggles and half-bloods. It was an unrealistic plan after all, and Newt was sure after he gave Grindelwald some statistics about just how many Muggles there were in the world, he’d probably get tired just thinking about how many killing curses he would need to cast.

It was also fortunate Grindelwald was too proud to utilize Muggle technology to kill people, seeing such an adoption of non-wizard technology as beneath him. “Don’t worry, Newt,” Grindelwald purred, “I am quite strong. ” He smiled lecherously.

Graves snorted, unbelieving that the dark wizard scum would say such a line-and jealous he hadn’t said the same line quick enough himself.

“After all, I have creatures to feed and clean up after so I need to stay alert,” Newt added quickly, so they wouldn’t get the idea he was giving in so soon to them.

“Mr. Graves?-I” Newt began to speak after a moment, only to be interrupted.

“Call me by my name, Percival.” Percival Graves said encouragingly.

“P- p-p,” Newt began, almost unable to believe this situation was real. He'd scarcely ever flirted with one person, let alone fended off two eager suitors.

“Percival, Newt, it is quite easy to say.” The man coaxed gently rubbing his shoulder.

“Percival,” Newt smiled blindingly.

“And of course, you will call me Gellert, unless you have another. sweeter, title in mind,” Gellert said smoothly, giving his permission as he permitted himself a pat of Newt’s thigh, just an inch or so higher than his previous position. It was a fortunate thing Newt’s legs were long or Percival’s temper would have been shorter.

“Gellert,” Newt said with the same delighted smile, making the dark wizard give the former director a smug look at the lack of stuttering.

Percival ignored it, he knew that they both enjoying the nervous stuttering, and there was just no denying that fact. They both got off at knowing that they had that power over the younger man. Neither one of them were known for being kind and caring, it wasn’t an advantage in either one’s line of work.

“That’s another thing,” Gellert started off. “You don’t seem anymore afraid of me than you would be any other person…” He looked curiously at Newt, wondering why his soulmate wasn’t the slightest bit alarmed, although he obviously knew who he was.

“Well,” Newt began, “You aren’t showing any dangerously aggressive signs, normally those types of situations only happen when the predator feels like they are in danger of losing. While there is some aggression and mistrust due to your previous captivity that was partially my fault, you don’t seem to be showing any lasting grudge.”

Newt explained this as he would explain any creature lashing out due to intimidation, he always did speak well when trying to describe some sort of beast. Creatures made far more sense, to his way of thinking, than most people. Gellert tipped his head to the side, still looking curiously at his Newt, he was so fascinating. Newt was so unafraid of him, yet the slightest thing made him nervous.

“Also,” Newt started speaking again, still in lecture mode. “You’re my soulmate, and it stands to reason that mates don’t generally, out of enlightened self-interest, destroy their mate and part of their own souls. Unless, of course,” he added, considering, “they’re insane. Which, thank Merlin, you’re not. Power hungry and fanatical, but not outright mad.”

Percival looked at him incredulously. The Brit had big ones, he’d grant him that. He wasn’t worried about what the dark wizard had done, or even what he would do. It was obvious that neither one of them were about to turn him in. What exactly would Grindelwald be doing with his newfound freedom? There were only so many hours a man could whisper tender things in the redhead’s ears before he’d want to otherwise occupy himself.

The German uttered a short bark of laughter, amused with his impudent answer. “Pretty and brave,” Gellert mused contemplatively “Why don’t you tell us more about what would be normal behavior for a….creature…. in our situation, hmm?”

“Well, this is a polyamorous relationship involving two highly predatory and dominant males, as such, interaction between them is typically very confrontational, and they become very antagonistic towards each other. Fights would happen quite often over the mate. This isn’t a huge issue as creatures can often be appeased by the offering of another mate. I am not sure there are creatures that have more than one mate in such a bond, yet keep these mates for life. Seeing as in this case, another mate being offered is not a viable option, it wou-” Newt broke off, seemingly remembering this wasn’t hypothetical creatures he was talking about, but the people whom he was actually talking to, and himself.

There was nothing theoretical about this situation.

“But we are a triad,” interjected Percival. Much as he wished it wasn't so, he knew better than to argue with magic.

“Bonobos?” offered Newt weakly.”But in that case the troop’s bonds are established by sex with a variety of other members of the monkey troop.”

Gellert sniffed. “Make war, not love. Far more to show for it if you’ve got the power.”

“Careful, you’re channelling a German stereotype,” snarked Percival, rubbing Newt’s tense neck soothingly. He redirected the conversation. “So, our triad, how do you, as the mate of both of us, envision this working?”

“I don’t want to see you two fight.” Newt proposed his request quietly-just as he liked it. “Actually, I um- I don’t want you fighting, in or out of my line of sight.” He stated this confidently, he didn’t even want to ask them for this, but if they asked him to tell them something he would! He could tell that they would eventually figure out a way to work around his stated limits, but he didn’t want to make it easy on them.

Newt could practically feel the glare the two were sharing above his head, full of dislike. In order to distract them from their little staring contest, he found it prudent to quickly standing, citing the need to go get the coffee as a reasonable excuse for leaving the couch-and more importantly, the two wizards sitting on the couch.

Not that they were willing to be reasonable. Mortal enemies were sitting on the couch,  with only a small space that had been previously been occupied by Newt between them. And they had a request-orders really- to not fight. They contemplated each other for a minute.

“Define fight.” Graves finally intoned, wand swishing slightly. Text appeared midair.

‘Fight’ it said, ‘ verb, to take part in a violent struggle involving the exchange of physical blows or the use of weapons.’

Grindelwald, obviously understanding the meaning of this quickly raised his wand.

“A limited definition,” Graves confirmed, “In our world we don’t even use physical blows to harm, it’s all about words and power.”

“I think we have located our loophole,” Grindelwald acknowledged, but he put his wand away as soon as Graves waved the words away, and resheathed his own. They weren’t risking being as combative as they wished, not with Newt in the other room, and the threat of him coming back at any moment, because at that point, their loophole would be destroyed.

“Getting to know each other?” asked Newt, returning with a tray and the promised coffees for his two mates.

Percival bared his teeth at Gellert in a reasonable facsimile of a smile. Gellert flashed his teeth in return. “We’re working on finding areas of common interest, yes.”

“Would you like to hear what we’ve discovered so far?” Gellert asked, his voice salacious.

“Uh- that’s alright-” judging by Gellert’s tone, he figured they hadn’t been talking about weather.

“We’re bonding over it, Newt, surely you want to know?” Percival nudged, he saw the glint in Gellert’s eye, and knew exactly where this was going.

“For starters, we both like your mouth Newt,” Gellert spoke up, not giving Newt the chance to reassert his desire to stay oblivious.

The redhead put a self conscious hand up to his lips.

Percival reached forward to pull Newt back onto the couch between the two.

“It's so pretty,” Gellert spoke, not voicing any of a number of the lewd thoughts that pervaded both of the older wizards’ minds about how his mouth could be put to use.

“Oh,” Newt said blushing, unaware of the positively pornographic thoughts playing out “I- thank you?”

“Anytime,” they said in chorus, before frowning at each other.

“So,” Newt started, too curious for his own good, “Did you talk about my lips for five minutes straight?”

He really did wonder. “Your hands may have come up in conversation as well…” Percival mentioned.

“We speculated as to whether you were freckled all over,” added Gellert suggestively and enjoyed the blush that flamed red over the auburn haired man’s face.

“I do have another inquiry,” Percival added thoughtfully,”just how far does that arous- err, beautiful-- blush of yours extend? ”

“Well I- I’ve never- I don’t know. I’ve never blushed in front of a mirror.” The blush became even more prominent as he admitted this.

“I do suppose we will need to experiment, then,” Gellert decided, to which Percival nodded his agreement.

“Experiment?!” Newt yelped. He was all for the advancement of science, especially magizoology, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a test subject, a guinea pig as the muggles called them.

“Indeed,” Gellert said as if there were no question about it. “You and I, we will be doing lots of experiments, I have to learn everything about you, after all.”

“Your obsessive nature is showing,” Graves mentioned, annoyed that the bastard had purposely excluded him from the aforementioned ‘experiments’.

“Obsessive nature?” Grindelwald questioned innocently. “I suppose, you would know all about it, wouldn’t you? I did single-mindedly manage to ensnare you for a good long while. I had plenty of time to study you in captivity and your own traits include an obsessive streak-- truth, justice, and the American way.”

Graves actually growled at the dark wizard. “You’re not doing anything with him without me around as well.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to rethink that,” Gellert cautioned, “Because in that case, I will be with you whenever you do something with him as well. This goes both ways you know. Anything you expect of me, well, it’s only fair that you deal with have the same in return.”

“Alternate days?” proposed Newt. It would be exhausting to be fought over all the time.

The two other men looked at each other.

“No.”

“Nein.”

Neither would go a whole day without their Newt, even if they had the Englishman all to himself for half of the time. There was also the likelihood that the other would get up to all sorts of things on their day alone.

“He might try to sway you from me.” Gellert accurately predicted.

“He might try to Imperio you to prefer him to me,” objected Percival.

“Newt already prefers me,” Gellert denied the accusation. Percival turned to Newt, waiting for his darling to inform the stupid wizard that probably had all his brain cells fried by dark magic that he preferred him by far.

“I don’t prefer either of you!” Newt rushed out, before rethinking his words, “I mean, I prefer both of you! I like you both equal, the same, you know, like- I like you both.. You're both my soulmates.” He scrambled, trying to figure out best how to word it in order to diffuse the potential hazards he could see coming his way.


	3. Further Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt keeps his suitors at bay and Gellert considered delegating some tasks so he has more time for Newt.

They just smiled amusedly at Newt as he frantically tried to make use of his limited conversation skills.

“Schatz,” Gellert said, clearly addressing Newt, “How do you feel about an assistant?”

“Uhm- for what?” Newt questioned, confused.

“For your class, of course, I am very interested in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, I’ve read your entire book.”

Graves’ eye twitched. He regretted ever giving that scum the book, he had wanted to taunt him as he had been taunted in his own captivity, to underline to Gellert the fact that Newt was beyond his reach. Grindelwald had not realized he was also Newt’s soulmate until he had been captured. And when he realized that fact, Graves tormented him with reminders that he would never get to bond with him, going so far as to give the dark wizard a copy of Newt’s book.

“You are?” Newt questioned, most people weren’t very interested in his creatures, but this was his soulmate, and his soulmate was perfect for him, so of course Gellert would be interested. It all added up in Newt’s mind, so he returned his thoughts to his present situation.

“I mean, that’s perfect!” He smiled charmingly, “You’re perfect.”

Instinctively, he leaned a bit into Gellert’s side to show his pleasure, snuggling in a bit. “An assistant would be helpful, we just have to make sure the Headmaster doesn’t mind.”

Graves positively fumed, but only squeezed lightly on the elegant hand that he had been granted to hold, as they each had when Newt had been pulled back to the couch.

Newt, finely tuned to emotions- he had to be to make sure he didn’t misstep with his creatures- sensed jealously, and not wanting to relinquish his position pressed up again. Gellert pulled Graves towards him as well until Newt was squished up even further between the two.

Each of them held one of his hands their own strong and calloused grips, leisurely caressing and tracing shapes on his skin, causing him to shiver slightly. This in turn made the wizards greedily covet more titillating reactions.

Graves, feeling that he wasn’t get his fair share of attention (really, he deserved all of Newt’s attention) slowly raised his hand, Newt’s own still clasped inside. Seeing that he had Newt’s attention for the moment, as he had curiously turned to Percival, the auror dipped his head and softly kissed the back of Newt’s hand. Newt’s jaw dropped, and Percival did it again, gently pressing his lips against the soft skin.

Newt only stared in awe, and so Percival did it again, and again, and again. He opened his mouth to nibble lightly and swipe the flesh with his tongue, forcing a gasp out of his younger soulmate.

Grindelwald didn’t even attempt to stop Graves. He was so absorbed, focusing on Newt, and how the teasing kisses on the back of his bare hand made him quiver with delight. He halted the moment Graves tried to subtly move his way upward, turning the hand over and starting to kiss the inside of Newt’s wrist.

The dark lord only had to growl lightly to make Newt flinch back in surprise, being reminded of the other presence beside him. The mood was ruined then, and Graves didn’t quite think it could be salvaged. “You are truly delicious, just a touch of salt,” he murmured, before he regretfully surrendered Newt’s freckled hand. “A perfect hors d’oeuvre for the main course that I so look forward to… devouring.”

“Later,” said Newt, patting his hand reassuringly, and turned to Gellert. “How are you at shovelling Nundu excrement?” He wanted to gauge if the German's offer was sincere, or just a ploy to gain attention.

The Dark Wizard squared his shoulders. “I am sure I can find an appropriate spell.”

“Nope, it’s a by hand task, it’s too tricky with all the space expansion spells I’ve set up to do extra spells in the case,” said Newt, testing the depth of Gellert’s devotion.

Gellert sat thinking. There were only certain ways he liked to get his hands dirty. Torture and painful curses being two of his favorites.

“Percival, can you help me give the Quintaped their shots?” Newt asked, turning to the other man.

“Of course,” agreed the American readily, sensing that he might get a little, if he gave a little.

“That also includes shoving pills down their throats by hand. They are carnivorous, have a particular taste for human flesh--”

The Director eyed his manicure and shrugged, he could always magic back torn cuticles in a perfect form. “I’m prepared to make sacrifices for your love,” he purred.

“How many fingers will he lose?” asked Gellert blood thirstily. If Graves didn’t have fingers, he might have an edge over him as a lover for Newt.

“My creatures are harmless!” Newt argued, indignant at the very accusation that his precious creatures would hurt his soulmates. They might think about it and perhaps take a test nibble, but Newt would never allow further mutilation to happen. He hoped. Quintapeds were a bit fond of their own way, rather like Newt himself.

At least they weren’t being asked to subdue a manticore without a wand, and well, capturing a unicorn would be quite impossible for the two of them, thought Gellert.

“I think the two of you are going to be trickier to wrangle than a starving manticore,” said Newt suddenly. His mind and conversation had a way of jumping from topic to topic.

“Manticore?” Percival asked, confused.

Grindelwald only chuckled slightly in amusement, the corner of his mouth tilted upwards in a smirk.

“They are quite dangerous if not handled correctly,” Newt informed him. Percival assumed this was the end of the explanation, and understood why both of them could be compared to such, but then Newt continued on, “They are reputed to croon softly as they devour their prey.”

Percival started in surprise, at least now he understood why Grindelwald had found the comparison so hilarious. Because in all probability, both of them did want to devour Newt, and would do so while softly crooning to him. Whether Newt realized this, or had unthinkingly spoken of manticores, because he had been thinking of dangerous beasts anyway was a mystery. His mind was definitely one that moved in mysterious ways.

“Are you planning on wrangling us?” Grindelwald questioned silkily, thinking about Newt’s statement, not having been distracted trying to find out what a manticore was like, as Percival had been. Though Percival had overlooked that particular part of Newt’s comment, he certainly remembered now judging by the calculating look he cast over Newt.

“If I let you run roughshod over me, there will only be a smear left of me,” predicted Newt ruefully. Privately he thought to himself, but oh, what a way to go!

“Nein,, we wouldn’t want that. I might play rough, but I’ve been told I’m good at aftercare,” promised Gellert, with a significant raised eyebrow.

“As the saying goes, an Auror always knows how to skillfully wield his wand,” added Percival, with a wink.

At the double entendres from his soulmates, Newt blushed a stunning red, blood rushing to his face.

“Aha!” exclaimed Grindelwald, as excited as a dark lord about to torture a spy, “this is the perfect opportunity, take off your shirt.”

“P-pardon?” Newt stuttered, not quite sure he understood the new turn in conversation.

“Well, we do need to know how far your blush goes, and seeing as you’re blushing…” Graves, having to do thousands of pages of paperwork, and remember the finer details of MACUSA's legislation, had a nearly eidetic memory. He clearly remembered the earlier teasing and was resigned to banding up with Grindelwald for Newt’s pleasure, their common goal.

When at a loss, Newt reverted to manners. “Gentlemen, we’ve hardly been introduced. I’m not sure what sort of wizards you’ve…consorted with in the past, but I am not that easily wooed and won. I want you to prove that you are worthy before you see any more of my skin.”

Gellert and Percival nearly choked. Who was this person and what had they done with Newt? Shyly endearing, placating Newt, who would surely never say any of this so straightfowardly and boldly?

Superstitiously, they cast revealing charms, and were slightly surprised when they saw this wasn’t a doppelganger. Little did they know he was simply repeating something he had heard Theseus tell him many times.

Theseus had put it in far more blunt terms, of course, “An easy fuck gets frequently fucked over.”

He did want his soulmates though, he didn’t want to discourage them and make them think that they could never have him (even if Theseus had his protective big brother way, they wouldn’t).

Newt grasped both of their hands and trying to be encouraging, said, “Don’t you see that we’re far too important to rush into this without getting to know each other?”

He truly did believe this, he didn’t want them to jump immediately into an affair with him, and then decide he was too.. quirky, or annoying, or something else that neither of them could live with.

He, of course, didn’t realize this would never happen. Percival was already well aware of what Newt was like, and Grindelwald hadn’t even dreamed of being granted the gift of a soulmate. He had been born without a soulmark, and now that he had one through impersonating Graves, he was determined to keep his soulmate-windfall.

He knew that even if his soulmate had been less reluctant to look past his dark side, he would have forced his mate to stay anyway, chained to him forever with blood magic. It might seem extreme, but he was a dark lord, after all.

Evil overlords were renowned for being extreme. Well, that and generally causing terror to reign in the hearts of all who were in close proximity, as well as striking fear in all that were aware of his existence in the magical world. It was a job that involved a great deal of attention to the finer details and multitasking. Maintaining a reign of terror was frankly, tiring, and he was hoping to take a short break and use it to woo Newt.

Although he didn’t plan on telling the other competitor about this, it was better to make the Yank suffer, thinking he was up to nefarious things and being unable to prevent it. Actually…he probably still would be doing various nefarious things, it was simply in his nature, he just wouldn’t be entirely focused on the ‘killing all the muggles’ campaign right now, just fomenting a few regional wars.

Maybe he could get someone to do it for him. It was something to look into. Perhaps he could imperio a few muggle dictators to do the "kill off the populace" work for him. Italy and Germany seemed two promising venues, perhaps Russia, as well. He liked chaos, it served his ends nicely. He would have to be careful, however, that his soulmate and Newt’s law abiding other soulmate didn’t pick up on his next big plans, or they might try to thwart him. He would also need to remember to set up spells that would bring about a massive fatal heart attack or mental illness leading to suicide so his puppets didn’t escape his control when he decided their time and usefulness to him had run their course.


	4. Good cop, bad cop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two men, two approaches, one goal.

Finally, both Percival and Gellert left Newt’s room. Percival heading to his own quarters while Gellert left to seek permission from the Headmaster to become the Care of Magical Creatures assistant professor…. Or really, assistant to the professor.

It was a fortunate thing that he had had no previous dealings with Headmaster Dippet and that his offer to serve as an unpaid assistant in order to study with an expert was rapidly approved.

He was given quarters next to Newt, but was chagrined to realize that Newt’s neighbor on the other side was none other than Percival Graves. He wasted no time in enhancing his quarters by adding a door to their common wall. Now all he had to do was convince Newt to make a few adjustments to his side of the wall.

Stepping out of his room, he went over to Newt’s door, and seeing that it was open, invited himself in. He stopped at the doorway to the sitting room, watching as the previous director of magical security attempted to convince the magizoologist of precisely the same thing he had been about to request himself.

“It is ideal, really, Ne-”

“But I don’t understand why you can’t just walk into the hallway and knock on my door like anyone else.”

“I”m not just anyone, I’m your soulmate. Besides, making our rooms conjoined will just make it that much quicker for me to get to you in case of an emergency…” Graves tried to present his case in a reasonable manner.

“I agree,” Gellert piped up. His mouth grimaced slightly at the sour taste the words left in his mouth. But, well, if it took both of them to convince Newt, he would do what he must, not everything would be pleasant, especially with that goody two shoes law enforcer as his soulmate’s other mate.

Newt looked between the two of them, wondering if he could win this argument as well, at least for a time.“I don’t intend on needing rescuing, Percival. I’m a fully grown wizard, capable of taking care of myself.”

‘Hmmm,” Grindelwald hummed pensively. Quickly, he walked fully into the room before grabbing Newt’s wrist. Newt started in surprise as the Dark Wizard pulled Newt’s wand from where it was haphazardly sticking out of his pocket and tossing it to Graves before grabbing Newt’s other wrist.

Firmly, he held both of them in one of his own strong hands, keeping them behind Newt’s back. Finally, Newt seemed to realize what was happening and started to struggle, but it was useless against Grindelwald's superior strength.

The curly haired wizard was used to using his knowledge to fight off predators, not sheer strength. Faced with an opponent that was unwilling to be reasoned with or sweet talked into compliance (this didn’t happen with creatures) he was defenseless.

“So, I haven’t even drawn my wand and you are captive.” Grindelwald spoke frankly,his breath tickling one of Newt’s ear. “Just how do you- a fully grown wizard- plan to rectify this situation?”

“I- uhm- well, this isn’t really fair, I wasn’t, I wasn’t ready,” Newt feebly protested. He preferred to be underestimated until he could do decisive damage and flee.

“A foe doesn’t give you warning before he attacks,” pointed out Percival. “And a good duelist learns to avoid giving tells in battle.”

“But in any case,” Gellert said with faux kindness, “You can have another try.” He let go of Newt, stepping back with a feral grin.

“Perhaps Percival.. will try. After all, I am a world renowned dark lord, I doubt anyone as dangerous as me would be attacking you,so let’s have the little auror give it a try.” All three of them knew that Graves' power and skill was nothing to be scoffed at, but Newt didn’t want to give up a second chance to prove himself.

Besides glaring at Grindelwald for daring to use his first name, Grave wanted to ‘capture’ Newt this time, and he had no doubt that he could do so with ease. First, he gave Newt back his wand, and the younger wizard held it warily, eyes trained on Percival.

“Common Welsh Green?” Percival said, in a questioning tone.

Immediately, Newt was distracted, wondering what Percival wanted to know about such a stunning dragon, was it how to recognize them, because they were unique with their melodious roar, or did he need to know what the eggs looked like? Maybe his soulmate wondered what their role was in the 1666 Great Fire of London--

His train of thought was broken as he was swept off his feet without any spells. Percival had only had to stride forward smoothly before kicking his legs out from under him. Newt braced for impact, closing his eyes, only to open them when he didn’t hit the ground. A strong grip on his coat insured this, though his back still thumped quite solidly against the floor.

He attempted to raise his wand before it was too late, but as a seasoned auror, Graves was always aware of where his opponent’s weapons were, and was therefore ready for such a move. He swung his legs over his soulmate's body to straddle him and simultaneously grabbed the wand arm-the right one- and shook it until Newt let go of the threatening tool.

The struggle was over before it had really begun, and Graves was triumphant, sitting high on Newt’s chest, one hand still gripping the coat while the other held onto his wand arm, that was now empty, wand having rolled away to be picked up by the dark wizard, whose fingers fondled the bone and fossil shell inlays of the lime and ash tree wand.

“You live far much in your head to see the threats surrounding you, Scamander,” Graves drawled. He was in no hurry to move, it was a nice view to look down on, Newt with a look of surprise, breathless under him, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. He trailed a gentle finger along the high cheekbone. “We’ll have to see if we can train you to become more in tune with your body and environment.”

“We’ll add that to the list, under both experimentation, and training,” Grindelwald agreed, crouching down by Newt’s head. “You look good in that position, mein Schatz.” He trailed his fingers through Newt’s hair and pulled, not hard but enough to turn Newt’s gaze away from Graves.

“He’d look amazing in any position,” pointed out Graves sulkily, as he removed himself from Newt’s chest and assisted him to his feet. Grindelwald returned the magizoologist’s wand to him, hilt first, with a bow, half courtly, half mocking.

Newt couldn’t decide whether to glare in defiance or to feel sheepish at his easy defeat. Either way, he’d be subjected to a pair of fond looks with the implied message of “isn’t he adorable, our little lover!” He hated that they refused to take him seriously.

“Dammit, I’m a magizoologist, not a duelist!” he sputtered. “You can’t seriously expect me to train as a warrior at this point in my career.”

“If you are going to play with the big dogs…” began Percival.

“Or run with the wolves,” added Gellert.

“You need to learn to fight,” they chorused.

“We’re hardly the safest men to be mated to,” pointed out Percival. “I’ve got enemies, and he’s got, well, legions of enemies, to put not too fine a point on it.”

Gellert swelled with pride that even his rival conceded a lot of people hated his guts. He had to be doing something right for that to have happened. It was a point of honor, rather like a criminal making #1 on MACUSA’s most wanted list. Which he had, thank you very much. It was sort of like a seal of approval on the sheer villainy of his deeds.

“Why thank you, Percival,” he replied, fluttering his eyelashes, “I’m flattered that you noticed.”

“Seeing as how I issued the order for your arrest a few years back, it would be hard to forget,” the American said grumpily. Add to the fact that I’m one of the many people that hate your guts, he added silently. It was just a generic hate before, but now I have personal reasons to loathe your viscera and the rest of you.

“Much as I hate to break up your mutual admiration society, gentlemen, we still have not resolved a number of issues. Such as why you two feel you have the right to take over my life and dictate my doings,” pointed out Newt, going on the defensive. It must be noted his blood sugar was getting low and that was never a good thing.

“Don’t be like that darling,” Graves cooed, trying to calm down his mate, and forestall his indignant protest of “be like what?” He wasn’t quite sure what would happen if Newt didn’t eat soon so he could focus on his creatures’ evening meal.

“Are you peckish?” asked Grindelwald. “I’m sure we could find something to tempt your fancy.”

“No,” Newt denied, petulantly. Though Cornish pasties or Shepherd’s pie sounded good-- he cut off that thought.

“We could always tie him up and hand-feed him,” suggested Graves. “But then his hands wouldn’t be free to do other things.”

“Hmm, what to do, what to do,” murmured Gellert, tapping his fingers pensively. “Such a conundrum.”

“Come have dinner with us, sweetling,” coaxed Percival, and transformed a chair into a large round table. A snowy white tablecloth manifested itself and silver with the Hogwarts crest arranged in three settings around the trio of bone china plates.

Gellert put in an order to the kitchen house elves for particularly British foods as well as some bratwurst, sauerkraut and beer for himself. If Graves wanted some bizarre American food like pizza, chop suey or corn dogs, he could damn well magic it up himself.

“I have to feed my creatures first,” Newt stated, putting his beasts before himself as usual. Unfortunately, his soulmates weren’t willing to allow him his usual level of self neglect.

“Food first, then beasts,” said Graves placating, his eyes on the long term prize.

“But--” Newt began his protests only to be cut off, “They rely on me for their health and happiness. Especially at meal times.”

“Reliant… dependent…I like the sound of that,” Gellert said suggestively. It went totally over Newt’s head. Little did Newt know, he was talking about Newt. Having the magizoologist completely and totally dependent on them-- Gellert knew what he would be fantasizing about as wank material tonight if his campaign to win Newt’s favours was not completed in short order.

“Here, try a bit of Shepherd’s pie,” coaxed Percival, floating a forkful under Newt’s nose. It smelled good enough that the redhead opened his mouth and let himself be fed, like a young Bowtruckle getting a treat of woodlice.

Percival clearly saw that he would be playing the mostly good cop to Gellert’s bad cop to get them both what they wanted. Lust and soulmate bonds made for strange allies and bedfellows.


End file.
